


Stay

by Emeli_Thorne



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Au in which Frank is a model, F/M, FLUFF ALL AROUND though, Frank is smitten ofc, Frank loves to touch Karen, Frank rocks her world, Frank's dogs make an appearance, Karen develops a crush, Karen having to write a celebrity article because Ellison hates her, Karen really loves to be touched, based on a Tumblr post with Jon Bernthal's photos, secluded cabin, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-12-05 00:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11566341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeli_Thorne/pseuds/Emeli_Thorne
Summary: Frank Castle is an up and coming model every magazine, paper, TV station and the entire freaking Internet is mad about. By Ellison’s cruel punishment, Karen is there to interview him for the celebrity or whatever section of the papers (can you tell how little she cares?).She doesn’t even know who he is, ok? Like, she’s seen some photos on the Internet before and yeah, she did her due diligence. She’s nothing if not thorough. But celebrities aren’t really her area of interest (not enough blood and suffering, she thinks sarcastically) and this Castle guy doesn’t seem all that fascinating to her.She changes her mind after she spends the day with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post http://introwersja.tumblr.com/post/163171653647/jon-bernthal-for-gq-source-jon-bernthal because, is Jon even real?!
> 
> I needed an AU based on this and kind of hoped someone would come up with something and I wasn’t planning on ACTUALLY writing it but I was on a roll so here it goes. It took me an hour last night and I don’t remember the last time I wrote something this long this fast. I have never written Kastle but I hope it’s not too ooc. Also posted on tumblr http://the-mimi-hiddleston.tumblr.com/post/163231624604

Frank Castle is an up and coming model every magazine, paper, TV station and the entire freaking Internet is mad about. By some miracle, Karen’s colleague Joanne managed to book him for a photoshoot and an interview for the Bulletin since Castle is notorious for refusing any kind of public display and talk of him.

  
By Ellison’s cruel punishment, Karen is there to interview him for the celebrity or whatever section of the papers (can you tell how little she cares?). She haaaaates it but Ellison made her do this just to get her off dangerous topics she usually investigates. And because he threatened to fire her for repeatedly endangering her life in process of getting her story. It’s not like she does it on purpose. Each story has its own flow and it’s so not her fault that flow sometimes leads to a gun being pointed at her. Hazards of the job, she thinks.

  
She doesn’t even know who he is, ok? Like, she’s seen some photos on the Internet before and yeah, she did her due diligence. She’s nothing if not thorough. But celebrities aren’t really her area of interest (not enough blood and suffering, she thinks sarcastically) and this Castle guy doesn’t seem all that fascinating to her.

  
Ellison’s words come to her mind, “Go, do the interview, get some shots. Who knows, maybe you’ll even like him like the rest of us mortals.”

  
And Karen actually doubts it at first but as she digs through the available information, she can’t help but develop just a tinie tiny crush on him.

  
He’s a decorated Marine, served his country up until a few years back. He likes photography i.e. taking pictures of nature, his dogs (all five of them!). He looooooves coffee (if his twitter feed is anything to go by as he regularly and systematically rants and rates coffee shops he visits). He sometimes sports a short beard (which Karen thinks suits him well) though he prefers his hair cut short (or so she deduces from his Instagram photos and various editorials). He is a strong advocate for animal rights and has even posed nude once for a joint campaign of several animal rescue centres, garnering close to $200,000 in donations (you won’t hear Karen complain, nuh uh).

  
All this makes her think this guy seems too good to be true, too open and mysterious at the same time. There has to be more to him than the persona he presents to the world.

  
She knows she’s gonna nail this interview or at least hopes so because so far, she’s only ever interviewed and/or talked to victims, gangbangers, murderers, mobsters, junkies etc, you get the gist - people who have a hard lives and those who make life difficult for said people.

  
This, normal conversation? Not really her thing. But if Ellison though for one second she wasn’t up for a challenge, well, she was going to prove him wrong. And get her real stories back.

* * *

  
The day of the photoshoot/interview Karen gets up extra early, pours over everything she could collect about him one more time just to be prepared, drinks two cups of coffee to calm her nerves and heads to the hotel they scheduled to meet, her heels stomping heavily against the pavement as she rushes to catch a cab.

  
When she walks in the presidential suite he occupies (because, of course he does) Mr Castle is… well, surrounded by his two pit bulls and is petting them.

  
Nothing odd there, but the scene strikes her in way because for some reason she imagined him differently.

  
He is very gentle and playful at the same time that Karen wonders how someone who survived what he did (his family’s tragic accident three years prior; a few articles she found online made her cry for an hour last night) can still harbour so much love and tenderness for other beings.

  
He’s dressed in a crispy white shirt, navy blue sweater over it and jeans. For a fleeting moment Karen lets herself appreciate how well put together he looks, how the sweater’s colour brings out his tan in just the right way.  
The dogs notice her then and run up to her, sniffing at her shoes and she offers them her hand to sniff too as their tails waggle excitedly, then rakes her hands through their fur. Before she realises, Karen is being toppled down by the dogs in fervent attempts to lick her face, barking happily. She laughs trying to push them away when Frank appears, pulling at their collars.

  
“Max, Boss, down! Sorry about that, ma'am. They get excited when they meet new people,” he apologises, looking sheepish, offering her a hand and helping her get up.

  
“Um, that’s ok. I think that was the best welcome I’ve ever received so all is forgiven” she flashes him a smile as she adjusts her skirt and tucks in her blouse, using this time to collect herself because holy shit, he looks way too handsome in person. Those pictures she’s seen of him do him little justice.

  
His hand’s outstretched as he introduces himself, “Frank Castle, ma’am.”

  
She surprised a bit by the way he addresses before she remembers he served and this sort of formality was most certainly ingrained in him. She shakes his hand firmly, “Karen Page. I’ll be conducting the interview. Where should I-” she looks around the suite, unsure where to sit.

  
The suite is huge and opulently decorated, with grey tones dominating the area. A few art pieces she bets are worth more than she makes yearly hang on the walls and there’s a giant fucking crystal chandelier hanging from the living room’s ceiling. The king-sized bed is neatly made, no doubt a remnant of his army days. An entire wall is made of floor-to-ceiling windows that cast more than decent light into the suite.

  
“Right this way.”

  
Frank lets the dogs out on the terrace then leads her into the kitchen area and offers her some refreshments. Karen sits at the kitchen island and asks for a glass of water (another cup of coffee on an empty and anxious stomach would be the death of her) while Frank pours a mug of coffee for himself. Karen meanwhile takes out her recorder, notebook, and pen from her purse and sets them in front of her in an attempt to settle her nerves at the sight of something familiar.

  
He sits on the chair next to her and takes a sip of his coffee before looking up, lips pressed tight before he speaks.

  
“So, um, the photographer, he’s not here yet,” he says after clearing his throat and Karen picks up on his tell - a finger tapping against the side of the mug. He’s nervous too apparently, which is odd considering he’s supposed to be used to all this by now.

  
“Will texted me just before I came in. He’s stuck in traffic. But, um, we can do the shoot later. My editor is more interested in the interview anyway,” her voice comes out shaky and somehow breathless. For crying out loud, Frank Castle is sitting mere inches from her and she can smell his cologne (some expensive shit, no doubt), that coffee on his breath (she guesses it’s not his first cup of the day) mixed with faint smell of peppermint and - smoke?

  
It’s out of her mouth before she can stop herself, “you smoke?”

  
The tips of his ears redden and a hint of smile appears on his face as he looks away for a moment. “Nervous habit. I was kind freaking out about today.”

  
He confesses how he doesn’t usually do interviews or give any kind of statements (yeah, she figured that out while researching him - there were, in fact, only two interviews he ever did, both related to the campaigns he did for the shelters) so he’s a newbie in this game. Karen laughs and whispers her confession, “This is actually my first rodeo in the celebrity realm”.

  
They share a laugh and just like that, the tension dissipates and soon they find themselves having a conversation about everything and anything, the questions she was supposed to ask him forgotten amidst Frank’s tale of rescuing Max from some “fucking Irish pricks who were pitting these two dogs against this poor pup, can you believe it?” in an alley in Hell’s Kitchen.

  
Frank is reserved with his words, but his face and grunts tell it all that Karen finds herself studying his expressions - the way his lips curve in a timid smile, how his eyes bore into hers she feels bared before him without even revealing anything about herself, the way his brows furrow and the grip on his mug tightens when she accidentally mentions his late wife.

  
She immediately rushes to apologise but Frank says it’s ok, that actually, he wants to talk about Maria because she was a wonderful woman, a force to reckon with, a person who made the dark days and nights during and after his tours brighter, but he abhors the press wanting to cash in on his tragedy, only being interested in ‘juicy’ details of their accident rather than her as a person.

  
“I won’t print anything you don’t want me too, Frank. I promise,” Karen says resolutely and she means it.

  
Will arrives some 40 minutes later, apologising profusely. Frank’s demeanour turns cold and closed off for all two minutes they exchange pleasantries that it catches Karen off guard. It’s like he’s become a whole another person for those two minutes, nothing remaining of the man she just spent almost an hour talking to. _This is Frank, the soldier._

  
Karen makes a move to stand up as Will starts hastily setting up his equipment, thanking Frank for his time and sharing his stories with her but his hand lands on her wrist as his gaze pins her to the spot.

  
“Stay. Please,” he says in low voice, almost pleadingly.

  
There it is again, that soul-bearing look that makes her want to squirm and hold his gaze at the same time, wishing she could do to him what he does to her.

  
It’s the first time she notices how rough his palms are, yet his hold is so gentle, so warm, tugging at something within Karen she thought was long dead after her debacle with Matt.

  
She can’t say no. And she doesn’t.

  
* * *

  
She stays till the very end of the shoot, but opts to head outside to the terrace to play with his dogs because she’s kind of starstruck by Frank Castle and being this close to him any longer… she’s not sure what it is, but he’s no ordinary man and certainly does not elicit ordinary feelings from her.

  
The nervousness is back, only this time it’s mixed with the thrill of anticipation, of wondering why exactly Frank wanted her to stay.

  
After Will’s gone, Frank appears on the terrace with a grin plastered on his face. He looks carefree again - it’s the Frank she met, not the one who greeted Will, and she decides she likes him more like this. No shadows on his face, no rigidness.

  
Karen stays at Frank’s until late evening, talking, exchanging stories and experiences. She tells him about her first encounter with New York – she was mugged the very first night - getting a job at the Bulletin, chasing criminals one story at the time. Frank tells her about his family – the relief he feels being able to talk about them to someone other than his friends – his time in the army, his crazy love of dogs, especially pits.

  
Karen asks him about the suite; it doesn’t quite scream Frank Castle, doesn’t match the impression she got of him today. It’s his agent, he says, he manages everything and Frank just doesn’t care where he is as long as there’s a bed to sleep on (you learn to appreciate actual beds after sleeping on bare ground for years, he reveals) and enough space for his dogs to run freely.

  
They are sitting on the couch on the terrace, tucked into a giant blanket he brought from the living room, Max and Boss snoring at their feet. Who would have thought that she, Karen Page, who knew next to nothing about this man just a few days back, would not only spend her entire day with him but also stay long enough to enjoy the sunset on his terrace?

  
After awhile, Frank breaks their comfortable silence, “I had I really nice time today, talking to you. Not many people wanna talk to me these days.”

  
Karen looks at him confused, “why’d you say that? I thought you were this hotshot model the world is craving for,” she says jokingly just to lighten the mood, noting a shadow creeping up on his face.

  
He huffs a laugh when she nudges his shoulder, averting his eyes for a split second from hers, “yeah, they wanna that hotshot, not me.”

  
Something’s pulling at her insides. A realization dawns on her. Of everything she’s heard him say today, all she’s seen: Frank is lonely.

  
There’s nothing personal in this suite. He’s detached from people as much as he can be, opting to communicate with the world through his love of photography he shares on his Instagram profile, advocating for animal rights, and yes, giving a piece of himself in the photoshoots because he did one gig on a dare of his army buddies before some modelling agencies took notice and wanted to hire him. And he would never admit it to anyone (but he did to her) that it’s fun sometimes, pretending he’s someone else, this guy with a “weird ass mug and crooked nose, Page” that on pure luck managed not to become crazy after what he’s been through.

  
He’s as simple as they come, yet there is so much under that apparent simplicity that draws you in, that forces you to look beyond it.

  
Karen looks at him, just looks at him for a long time, holding his gaze without saying anything. And then her lips quirk up when she seizes his hand and says, “there are galaxies in you, Frank Castle.”

  
For a second he looks dumbfounded before he bursts out laughing waking up the dogs, tears streaming down his face and Karen bites her lip to hide her grin because this is what she was going for, definitely. This lightness fits him more than anything else.

  
“Did you just use a cheesy line on me, Page?”

  
“Hahaha, maybe.”

  
He tucks her closer to his side and as she leans her head on his shoulder, Karen think that yeah, maybe it was a cheesy line but it is nothing if not true.

  
There are galaxies in Frank Castle and she wants to discover all of them.

* * *

  
The article is published a day late, after Karen spent the entire night writing, deleting, and rewriting the piece because who Frank is can’t possible fit into two-thousand-word article.

  
The photos turned out incredible. Karen brings a cup of coffee and two muffins from Will’s favourite coffee place and sets them in front of him the morning the papers is out, wanting to thank him for managing to capture Frank’s essence – that lightness, the softness of his expression mixed with roughness of his military background with the hint of that mysteriousness and smugness she noted.

  
Of course, she doesn’t tell him that. That impression she saves for herself and instead tells him “great job with the photoshoot” as she walks away to her office.

  
Frank calls her to thank her for the way she wrote the article, for making good on her promise not to print anything he didn’t want and for casting a different light on him. He sounds bashful as he says it, like he didn’t quite expect her to do that.

  
“I especially liked that you mentioned Max and Boss. They are kind of celebrities now too, huh?”

  
“Well, I had to. Though we gotta make sure it doesn’t go to their heads.”

  
Frank barks a laugh and Karen grins to herself; the day they spent together made her realise she loves his laughs – honest, full belly laughs that make her insides melt.

  
“So... um, I was wondering if, um, you’d like to grab a coffee with me sometime?”

  
He catches her by surprise but she quickly recovers, biting her lip hard to keep herself from screaming into her phone. Instead, she clears her throat, seemingly collecting herself, before saying “Yeah, I’d love that.”

  
“Great! Next Saturday?” he sounds eager to see her again and she can’t help herself but beam because she’s eager to see him as soon as possible too.

  
“It’s a date.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I am unable to write oneshots. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a one-time fic, but I wanted to explore what happened after Frank invited her out so... This is part two of idk how many parts. I hope you like it and don't think I butchered the characters. 
> 
> I'm really aiming for lighter Frank and Karen here, so keep that in mind please before judging too harshly. Constructive criticism welcomed.

He calls her Page eighty percent of the time.

  
During their first breakfast date when he took her to his favourite diner and they kept stuffing their faces with waffles (and Karen admitted that yes, those were indeed the best waffles in the city); during their fifth date when she took him to her favourite spot in the city and dared to share the story how she met (then lost) Ben; in all the messages he sends her and every time they talk on the phone.

When she asks him about it, he just shrugs, leaving her without an answer.

It doesn’t bother her though. 

When most people call her by her last name, there is this...exasperation in their tone, like they’ve had enough of her for the day to last them a lifetime and just want to get rid of her, like Detective Mahoney.

There’s annoyance, especially in Ellison’s voice when she doesn’t turn in the article he requested on time, and he has to give her allotted space to someone else with a far less intriguing and money-garnering article on latest diets of the rich and famous,  _People crave blood and gore, Page! I have to be able to give them that!_

There’s an underlying threat to her and everything she cares about when corrupt politicians and city officials realise she’s onto them,  _Oh, Miss Page. You should really be careful what and who you write about._

Foggy always calls her Karen, and so do all her other friends. 

Well, almost all.

Claire calls her by her full name when she knows Karen’s keeping secrets from her and feels the need to pry them out of her with her loud and no-nonsense, patented Claire Temple voice,  _Karen Page! You tell me right now what’s got you smiling the whole damn week or so help me god!_

They’ve known each other for two months now, and he’s only ever called her Page.

It doesn’t bother her though. 

When he calls her Page, his voice is laced with the kind of affection she’s yet to experience, his eyes gleam at her and all she wants to do is melt because Frank Castle, this wonderful human being that keeps himself to himself, chose to share parts of himself with her, Karen freaking Page.

He doesn’t call her Page to vex her, she is sure of that. Frank does it because he’s Frank and there is a reason behind it and maybe, Karen thinks, she should just let this be his thing. 

She accepts it like she accepts everything that comes with Frank, good and bad, because there are feelings involved she’s not quite ready to delve into or dissect; feelings that are there, on the surface and yet oh, so deep.

It’s too early, Karen tells herself. It’s too early to analyse and make assumptions, too early to try and go beyond what is here and now.

She accepts them as they are, Frank and his Page (well, not his  _his_ , but you get the gist). She accepts Frank and all his whimsicalness because he accepts all of her and her quirks.

After the first few dates, it takes them awhile to find the time to see each other beyond facetime, since for the past month and a half Frank has been overseas doing photoshoots for various magazines and Karen’s been chasing leads on the corruption story she is working on.

It takes them awhile, but eventually, Frank shows up unannounced at her doorstep, clad in a short-sleeved black henley and dark jeans, holding two cups of steaming coffee with that sparkling look in his eyes that turns her legs into jell-o whenever he looks at her.

“Hey,” his grin is wide and sincere and Karen, though freshly out of bed, wastes no time in jumping into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she can because she hasn’t seen him in 46 days and god, she’s missed him so much!

“Hey yourself,” she mumbles into his cheek as he pulls he closer with his hand that’s not occupied and buries his face into her neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re back?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he tells her as she pulls back, hands sliding to his arms, squeezing them slightly, like she wants to make sure he is really there, in front of her. “How fast can you get dressed?”

He hands her a coffee cup as he walks into the apartment and Karen has to turn around to face him with a confused expression. 

“Why?”

He smirks, fingers tapping against his cup, “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Oh? Where?” 

She takes a sip, savouring the warmth gliding down her throat, eyes fixed on Frank. He’s still smirking at her.

“Curb your curiosity,” he tells her as he cups her cheek with his hand, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. “I want us to make good use of those vacation days you got. The sooner you get ready, the sooner we can get going.”

“Fine, fine,” she huffs, giving him a light peck on the lips and hurrying into her room. “What should I wear?” she yells once she realises he didn’t even give her any specificities. 

“Just wear what you’re comfortable in. And bring some spare clothes,” Frank yells back from the living room and Karen proceeds to rummage through her closet. She digs out a pair of jeans and some sweatpants and shorts, a few sundresses, and some t-shirts.

Once she’s dressed in a white sundress and tied her hair in a ponytail, Karen packs the clothes she chose to bring with her into her travel bag, along with some of her essentials and underwear, and runs to the bathroom to quickly brush her teeth.

When she reappears before Frank, she’s ready to go, even though he is being way to cryptic for her liking. Frank takes the bag from her hand and kisses her cheek briefly before they head out to his car, parked in front of her building.

Even though he is always accompanied by his security detail (due to an incident that happened in the past), Frank’s alone whenever he comes to visit her or they go out. 

When Karen asked him about it, he told her it’s because he doesn’t want their relationship to be anything but normal and having jacked-up guys in suits follow them all day would be anything but. 

Karen kind of lost him after the  _relationship_  part, since she didn’t expect him to label whatever that was between them so quickly. They were still in early stages of their acquaintance, though for the most part it felt like they’ve known each other for years. She blushed then, and he noticed, even teased her about it until she admitted she liked the idea of them being in a relationship and then it was his turn to go beet red and suppress a smile before peppering her face with kisses.

He opens the passenger door for her and waits until she puts on the seat belt, giving her a long kiss, the first one that morning that makes her toes curl. It ends before Karen even has the opportunity to process it. He closes the door, then puts her bag in the trunk before joining her in the front.

When he finally settles into his seat, he turns towards Karen, who is already looking at him with an impossible grin. He is looking at her, eyes darting up and down her face, stopping for a second on the birthmark above her lip then leaning in her direction.

“I really, really missed you,” he tells her as he cups her face with his palm and draws it closer, resting his forehead against hers and Karen feels incredibly hot, unsure whether it is because of the incredibly hot day or her own maddening temperature that rises every time she is near him.

“I missed you too,” Karen tells him as she laces her fingers with his on her cheek, closing her eyes briefly, anticipating the familiar rush that comes every time he presses his lips against hers.

When it happens, it’s simultaneously the most amazing thing in the world and one that completely renders her boneless and weak, because he makes her feel things she’s never felt before.

He’s capable of shattering her world with one kiss. Karen can’t imagine what else he could do to her; what she would let him do.

Frank is gentle but ardent, pouring everything he has in every one of their kisses, Karen sometimes feels she’s not giving him nearly enough. It feels like he surrenders himself to her, but she is afraid of giving herself completely to anyone. Being burnt one too many times will do that to you.

The kiss lasts longer than the previous one and Karen is so blissfully unaware of the world around her, too lost in Frank. 

He does that to her. Kisses her senseless, brings her coffee from her favourite coffee place, takes her out on the most unassuming and yet most romantic places that will forever remind her of him, even if this thing between them doesn’t last.

She hopes it will, but...

Whenever he pulls back and ends their kiss, it’s never an actually end. He has to peck her lips a couple of times, kiss her cheek, her nose, her forehead. Karen feels him inhale her scent when his lips ghost against her jaw, both their breaths shuddering at the contact.

“Hi, Page.”

“Hi, Castle,” she replies just to tease him, to see that sparkle in his eyes when he knows she wants to mess with him. He doesn’t disappoint, eyes bright, smirking.

“So, how come you didn’t tell me you’re coming back? I didn’t think I was going to see you until next week.”

“Yeah, I, uh- I just needed a break. Felt kinda exhausted. Besides, I missed you,” Frank says, turning on the ignition.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

His hand is on her knee the entire drive to wherever he’s taking her, her hand resting on top of his as his fingers draw vague patterns on her skin, waking goosebumps along the way.

They talk about nothing in specific, spending the majority of time in silence, stealing glances at one another as some indie music plays in the background. 

Karen lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss on the back of his hand every once in awhile, before the drive, the bright sunrays, and the changing landscape lull her into sleep.

She wakes up to Frank’s soft whispers, “Wake up, sweetheart. We’re here,” and gentle caresses as he smooths his hand down her cheek.

Shaking her head to come to her senses, Karen exits the car, eyes looking in amazement at the sight before her.

She’s standing before a large cabin, somewhere in the woods. It’s so peaceful, she notes as she walks towards the stairs.

Only birds chirping and... water?

“Is there a stream here?”

“Yeah, not far from here. We can go later.”

Frank takes her hand and they climb up the stairs, Frank leading her into the cabin as Karen looks around.

“Just to warn you,” he starts, his hand griping the door handle but not quite opening the door yet, “My dogs are here. All of them. And they tend to be enthusiastic-”

“When they meet new people,” she finishes for him. “I remember.” And she does. Max and Boss practically tackled her to the ground the first time she met them. Now she wonders what the other dogs will do.

“Ready?” Frank asks, clutching her hand. When she nods, Frank opens the door slowly and they can already hear dogs barking. They haven’t even crossed the threshold properly when Frank’s dogs surround them, jumping on them, trying to lick their faces, tails wagging happily.

Karen laughs as the one she recognises as Max manages to actually kiss her cheek leaving a wet mark where his snout pressed against her skin. “Hey there, Max. Long time no see.”

When they’re satisfied with the attention given to Frank, the other dogs focus on Karen, jumping around her, trying to get her to notice them. They shove their snouts against her shins and calves, and one of them even tries to hug her, resting his paws on her chest, his tongue wagging from his mouth.

“Okay, okay, boys. Easy now,” she wants to give them all equal attention but it’s impossible with how tenacious they all are to be the first one petted.

Frank whistles and they all stop what they were doing, calming down immediately, eyes fixed on Frank.

“You already met Max and Boss. These are Venice,” he points to the orangey pitbull, “Duke,” who is of ashy grey colour, “and the little guy is Bam Bam.” The little guy is not that little anymore. Karen remembers the photos Frank showed her awhile back, when he first got him and how small he seemed in Frank’s lap. “He’s the youngest.”

Bam Bam’s eyes dart to Frank when he calls his name and he whines happily, still not used to the discipline Frank taught his brothers.

“You’ll have time to socialise,” Frank teases her when she gets on her knees to scratch behind their ears, lamenting she only has two hands and can’t give them all her interest equally. He opens the door to let the dogs out. 

He then extends his hand to help her get up and takes her on a short tour of the cabin.

The walls are of deep brown colour in every room and it all smells...very woodsy.

The bedroom is the largest room in the cabin, with a king-size bed with tons of pillows on it, a flat screen mounted on the wall opposite the bed and an adjacent bathroom with a bathtub large enough to fit four people in it and a shower with plain glass door.

Karen feels heat rising up to her cheeks when an image of her and Frank in that bathtub pops into her mind. 

They haven’t crossed that line yet, have sex that is. They haven’t gone past very heated, very enticing make-out sessions. Somehow it felt too soon to them both or they didn’t have the time with his busy schedule, but Karen was aware the attraction between them would lead to sex eventually, one way or another. She just never imagined it would happen in a remote cabin in the woods!

Frank shows her the kitchen and a vast living room which were both cosy and made you feel comfortable just being there.

Then, he leads her past another door, revealing a guest room that smells of clean sheets and has a small bouquet of wild flowers placed on a nightstand.

Karen’s excitement at the prospect of being here with Frank immediately drops; she feel like he was emphasising that line between them more than ever, but his words erase all her doubts,

“I-I don’t want to assume anything about... The room is yours, if you want to stay here,” he tells her, his voice timid, head bowed as he grips her hand lightly.

Karen can’t help the smile that spreads across her face as she looks at him, then surprises him by whispering, her lips grazing the shell of his ear, “I think I much prefer the main bedroom.”

Hearing a sharp intake of breath, Karen starts pressing kisses along his jaw, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, his own locking her in an embrace, pressing hard against his chest.

“Page,” he whines, making Karen revel in being able to elicit that from him. She decides to tempt him even more, just to toy with him.

“I’m gonna make you say my name, Frank.”

She feels him shudder, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place, but Karen can feel him growing and can’t help but giggle, hiding her face in his neck.

“You are not playing fair, Page,” he huffs, his voice hoarser than usual, kissing the exposed skin behind her ear.

“Well, it was you who brought me to your cabin. Here, in the woods. Where we’re alone. You think you’re playing fair?”

“Guess not.”

Finishing the tour, they go back to the car to get their bags. When they settle in (both in Frank’s room), Frank asks her if she’s hungry. Since she didn’t have breakfast, Karen is all but begging him for some food. Cereals would be fine, she tells him, because she’s too excited to be there, with him, that she thinks she might not be able to digest anything else.

Frank sits next to her at the kitchen table as the both eat a bowl of cereals, Frank telling her about the cabin.

He bought it last year, when he was overwhelmed with the newly-acquired fame and wanted to escape the limelight.

“It’s pretty secluded. Nothing but animals and me. Well, us now” he corrects himself and Karen grins, glad he’s really thinking of them as a unit. He continues, “There isn’t any unnecessary noise, no one to bother us.”

“You really like your peace, ha?” Karen asks, not expecting an answer because, honestly, she doesn’t need it. 

In all the time she’s known Frank, even before they became a thing, when she interviewed him, that is the impression she got. An impression that kept on being reaffirmed whenever they went out, usually to less crowded places where, as Frank often tells her, he can think and hear his own thoughts without other people butting in.

But, he answers anyway. “I do. I never thought this... dare would become an actual career path for me. I’ve only then learned to appreciate it.”

After their light breakfast, they go outside and lie on the swing set on the porch. Frank’s dogs are playing with the toys scattered around the yard. 

“You sure this thing can hold both of us?” Karen asks when it looks like it’s creaking way too much for her liking. Frank chuckles pulling her closer, face turned to her.

“I built it myself. It’s safe.”

When she finally relaxes in his arms, Frank fixes his eyes on her, his hand travelling under her dress, massaging her thigh as Karen rakes her fingers through his hair.

“What made you decide to bring me here?” Karen asks him, moving her leg so it’s on top of his.

“I thought we could use some time alone. Without anyone interrupting us. We haven’t had that since we met. ”

“Thank you for thinking of that,” Karen smiles, brushing her finger down his cheek.

He makes a noncommittal sound and proceeds to kiss her senseless, like he always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a kudo and/or comment to let me know what you think :D


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